


A Willing Substitute

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Cronus is sleazy, Hand Jobs, Humanstuck, Incest, M/M, Oral Sex, mentions of Sollux
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-01-06 22:52:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1112459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're not in a good mood after getting into a fight with your crush. You would have been okay with him being rough with you, but you had hoped there would be a sexual component to it. So your cousin offers to fill in for him, and even though you think he's kind of a tool, the offer appeals to you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Willing Substitute

**Author's Note:**

> It used to be that all I ever wrote was porn, and now I'm kind of shy about it. Maybe because now I know I wrote it very inaccurately, so I have to actually try to get things right.
> 
> Anyway, this is basically a PWP, which I think Amporacest lends itself to, honestly. Enjoy :)

Cronus is one of those people who believes knocking is a way of notifying someone you’re coming in, not asking permission. The fact that you had punched in the feeble button lock on the door to prevent your mom from pestering you didn’t seem to deter him at all, either. You hear him grunt a ‘Huh?’ before applying a significantly greater amount of force to the handle, popping it open. You sigh heavily and switch to one of your homework-related tabs so he can’t comment on the fact that you’re still running a ‘stupid blog,’ since he’s decided to force his presence on you. You make a mental note to Google ‘How to asshole-proof your room’ after he’s left.

You un-tuck your right foot from behind your left and push off at an angle, spinning your desk chair around so you can give him the full force of your not-in-the-mood face. He swats the door shut behind him and two sauntering steps later, he’s within range to fling himself onto your bed.

“ _Shoes_ ,” you growl before he even has a chance to fold his arms under his head. He scoffs, but works at the laces of his well-worn leather boots and shucks them off so they clunk heavily on your floor.

“Man, you _are_ in a pissy mood.” He plucks his trademark cigarette from behind his ear and sticks it between his teeth. You watch him suspiciously, knowing from overhearing your mom and your aunt talking that he’s actually started smoking them instead of just buying them to use as overpriced toothpicks. “Relax, your mom would throw a fit if I smoked in here. I know the rules.”

You roll your eyes sassily and then fix him with an impatient look. “Okay, so? What do you want?”

“Heard you’re having boy trouble.” He looks smug.

You go a little red, but hide it well with indignity. “Fuck you, I got in a fight.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said, ain’t it?” Smug bastard. Every time something even remotely romantic comes up in a conversation, he acts like he’s some kind of Love Guru. In reality he just knows he’s the only one you’ve told about being gay, so he thinks he’s got some sort of special power over you. To be honest, when you did tell him, it was because you were thirteen and you were under the impression that he actually _got places_ sometimes with all his talk. But as you got older you discovered that, no, he is really just full of shit.

“Would you just fuck off already?”

“Don’t be such a twit, E. Talk to me.” He puts a little whine into it, like he’s hurt that you’re being such an angsty teenager. He’s called you that before, even though he’s 18 and you’re 16, so he’s just a hypocrite.

Your scowl deepens. “Why should I? Your advice is shit. When was the last time you got laid?”

“Hmm? This is just about sex, then?”

Dammit. You’re not so cool about the red in your face this time. “Yeah, maybe,” you reply stiffly. “I don’t know.” It’s not like you haven’t thought about fucking Sollux Captor before. Frequently.

Cronus swings up and sits with his arms on his knees, smirking at you. “You don’t know, huh? You just want to fuck him first an’ figure all the mushy stuff out later?”

You don’t answer him, but it’s too hard to keep staring at his goddamn face when he knows he’s right. It pisses you off how you’re essentially just as desperate as him, just better at hiding it and not being a general sleaze bag.

“Maybe you just need to get it out a’ your system.”

“What are you even talkin’ about?”

“You _know_.” He lazily throws his hand out and starts jerking off an invisible dick a foot to his right.

“I’ve tried that.” Duh.

Cronus chuckles a little and tucks his cigarette back behind his ear. “You want some help with it?”

Your eyes narrow beyond your natural squint as you regard him suspiciously. He raises his eyebrows and cocks his head to the side in an almost flirtatious way. You’re not sure what exactly you want to ask him first, what impression you want to give. What the hell? Is he serious? Where did that even come from?

“Careful, Cuz, your ears are steamin’.”

You ignore his comment and speak right through the end of his last word. “What would that even do?”

A shrug. “Hell, I don’t know, really. Wasn’t exactly thinking if it would be helpful, but maybe it would. I always come harder when I’m with someone, so maybe you could get it out an’ be done with it? Figure out you were just really horny, not jones-ing for someone in particular. That’s just an idea I came up with now, whatever. It’s an offer. You gonna take it, or what?” He’s kind of ranting quickly, like he’s nervous or something. Well, that makes sense. He’s basically proposing incest to you. You’re dully surprised by how casually the thought comes to you.

“It doesn’t bother you that we’re _related_?” Somewhere in the back of your mind, you’re a little concerned that this is the only thing you have to say to it.

“Not really. But if you’re gonna be squicked out about it, then forget it.”

After a moment, you stand up and go towards the door. Cronus sighs, heaves himself off the bed, and stoops to collect his boots.

“Alright, jeez, I got it. You don’t have to show me the way—” He stops when he sees you press in the button-lock again, then lets out a low whistle. “Wow, really?”

You bite the inside of your lip. Good question. “Yeah,” you say.

He hesitates, searching your face to see if you’re pulling his leg. Not that he’s ever been so good at reading people, but after a moment he decides you’re serious, probably with more conviction than you have yourself. But then, he’s probably projecting at least a little. “Cool,” he says. The boots are on the floor again and without any other preface or a hint of hesitation, he’s got you pinned between the door and his lips.

He’s quick to suck on your bottom lip, asking to get into your mouth. Maybe if it were someone else, you’d care, but you really are on the same level as him. You’re desperate for the touch of someone besides yourself. Your cousin isn’t exactly the ‘someone’ you had in mind, but you don’t really have any complaints as long as he doesn’t talk _too_ much.

Cronus presses his body closer to yours, fingertips running up your sides, then down again. There’s pressure on your lip when he bites down, since you don’t let him in immediately. You gasp and dig your nails into his shoulder, which is probably not as effective as you hoped it would be, since they’re short. But you open your mouth and get a taste that tells you your mom and your aunt weren’t wrong about him smoking, not that you thought they were. It doesn’t really taste good to you, but you endure it because now his tongue is petting yours and it feels nice. It’s even hot, you’d say. He breathes a little laugh into your mouth and kisses down across your mouth, your jaw, pressing the blunt ends of his teeth into your neck with pressure short of an actual bite, as if asking permission. It takes you a moment to realize why this is different from him biting your lip, but when you do, you shove him off. 

“Hey, what the fuck? You change your mind already?”

“You can’t mark up my neck you shithead!”

He backs up and sits down on your bed again. “Why not? Just wear a scarf. You like scarves.”

“No,” you say firmly. You’re still standing by the door.

He stares at you for a second, then shrugs. “Okay, fine, no marks. Are you gonna come over here?”

You don’t like that you have to come to him. You struggle to think of a way to make him come back over to you, but that wouldn’t make much sense unless you want to do what you’re going to do up against the door. But frankly that doesn’t sound as comfortable. You struggle to think of a way to go to him without seeming like you’re giving in to his stupid demands.

As you walk, you pull your shirt off over your head. Maybe that’s giving him ground, since now you’re more naked than he is, but at least it’s hot. Maybe he thinks you’re hot, and that’ll put him a little bit under your thumb. Do you want him to think you're hot? You think he’s attractive, objectively, but you’re not necessarily attracted to him. You decide not to think too hard on it.

He scoots back on your bed and pats his thighs, indicating he wants you to straddle him. Goddammit, he’s really trying to dominate you. This is stupid.

You do it anyway, because you’re frustrated and you really want to get off. You put your hands back on his shoulders and he puts his on your hips, jerking you forward so your crotches are pressed together. He rolls his hips up. You go red again. You’re not hard yet, but it’s a motion with intent. He leans forward to kiss you again. This time you open your mouth, tentatively, but you do it first and push your tongue into his mouth. He curls his around yours, lingering even as you draw back, following you into your own mouth.

You don’t have much to compare it to, but you think he’s a good kisser. He’s good at twisting his tongue against yours, sliding, flicking it. He bites you again, softer this time. He nibbles your lip and kisses it. His hands move up from your hips to your sides again, but you barely notice because you’re focused on his lips. His thumbs reach your nipples, though, and skirt tenderly over them, and you shiver. You feel him grin against your mouth before he wraps one arm around your waist and heaves you down onto your back.

“What—” you begin, but his mouth closes down on your left nipple. You’ve touched them before yourself, but it was nothing like his pliant tongue running over and around your little bud. You keen up into him. You swallow noises of pleasure in your throat. Okay, now you’re getting hard. “How’d you even learn to do any of this?” you breathe, doing, you think, a fairly good job of sounding at least moderately cool. “It’s not like you ever get laid.”

He bites you again, hard, purposefully, so you cry out. He looks up from your chest. “I get laid infinitely more than you, you little shit.” He twists your other bud slightly between his index finger and thumb.

“So, what, like twice?”

He scowls and grabs both of your forearms, pinning them next to your head as he pushes his face into the crook of your neck and _sucks_ hard at the skin. You struggle because god _dammit_ , you don’t even want to think about what would happen if your mom found out the two of you were screwing around. You definitely didn’t get hickies from your fight, and you didn’t have them before Cronus was in your room, and she’ll know that.

“Get off!” You’re able to slide your wrist and hand through his grip and tug him back by his hair.

He’s laughing again, even though it probably hurt. You meant it to, anyway. “You bruise easily. That’s cute.”

“You douchewad!” You hit him on the arm. It’s a damn good thing you do actually like scarves and you own a few. You hope whatever mark he just made isn’t too visible. He didn’t have much time to make it, but you do bruise like a goddamn banana.

“Ow, stop beating me up, Cuz. That’s not cool,” he complains. “We don’t even have a safe word.”

You scowl at him. “I’m startin’ to change my mind.” You’re not sure how true that is, but in any case, threatening him with it might make him more compliant.

Cronus puts on his pouty face again. “C’mon, chief, don’t be like that. I was just having some fun with you. That mark probably won’t last long. Plus, I can make it up to you.” He shuffles down over you, stopping so his head is hovering over your crotch and his fingers are picking at the button of your pants.

“No, wait.” It’s stupid, and there’s no way in hell you’re admitting it to him, but your favorite fantasies about Sol are of him sucking you off, and even though that’s so far out of the realm of possibility it’s actually in another universe (one where he’s gay and doesn’t hate you), you’re holding on to it.

Now he just looks mildly irritated. “You’re seriously refusing head when I’m being all nice and offering? I didn’t have to, you know.”

You’re tempted to pull your leg out from under him and kick him in the face. It’s a damn good thing you refused or he would have tried to use it as leverage against you, most likely. “Just use your hand or somethin’.”

“I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t you suck me off?”

“Are you jokin’?” He said with a hint of sass in his voice so you’re not sure if he’s being serious.

He looks a little more irritated now. Okay, so he wasn’t joking. “No, I’m not. You could probably use the practice if you’ve never done it before.”

You keep the disinterested scowl on your face, but you think his point is valid. You’ve never given anyone head before and ideally you’d like to be good at it if you actually get to have sex with someone you like. It might be a good opportunity to practice on someone whose opinion you don’t value as much. “Fine. Turn over.” Your heart is beating a little fast and your face is probably a little red, but you don’t care. You’re not allowing yourself to.

He shifts and you kind of circle each other so you can be on top of him and he can get under you. You shuffle down the bed and he scoots up on it. His hands go to his fly and he undoes it. You swallow and help him pull his pants off. You’re not shy. It’s just the first time you’ve seen another guy’s dick in a sexual context. You weren’t expecting the other guy to be your cousin. You think that would weird anyone out a little bit.

“Can you get my socks too?”

You scoff and grab both of his feet, roughly ripping his socks off and throwing them somewhere unimportant.

“Thanks.”

You don’t answer. You lower yourself down and lick your lips, hoping he doesn’t interpret it as eagerness, because really you just don’t want to deal with chapped lips in the middle of this.

You curl your hand around the base of his cock and smooth your tongue over his slit experimentally. It doesn’t taste bad. It doesn’t taste good either, though. It’s just kind of weird. Bitter, mostly. It’s kind of funny, though. His dick tastes better than his mouth.

You try taking his head into your mouth, keeping your tongue pressed along the underside, and you move steadily down. You always thought you had a decent sized mouth but this is harder than you thought it would be, and you don’t think you have very much of him in. But he seems to be enjoying it anyway, from the sounds he’s making. They’re small, but then again you haven’t done very much yet.

You suck. He groans. This might be easier than you thought.

You try moving your hand a little instead of having it sit there uselessly. It’s kind of difficult, but it’s not like you didn’t know it would be. Mentally sighing, you sit back up. “Get in that drawer real quick and get my lube,” you tell him. He readily obliges, digging for a moment and then tossing you the bottle. You pour a little out on your hand and slick him up. You hope this stuff doesn’t taste weird; you’ve never tried it.

It doesn’t have much of a taste, you discover, taking his prick back into your mouth. Your glasses start slipping down your nose, so Cronus reaches down and takes them off. “You don’t need these anymore.” You let it go even though you really don’t like not being able to see. They’d just fall off and get in the way.

You move your head up a little and back down. It gets a little harder to suck, but you persist. You twist your other hand a little around the part of his cock you can’t reach with your mouth. You try to establish a rhythm so you can move your hand and your mouth without hitting yourself in the lips, and it’s a little awkward, but after a minute or so you get it.

He moves one of his hands from his side and puts it on the top of your head. You swear if he starts pushing you down you’ll fucking bite him. But he doesn’t. His fingers do tighten in your hair, but he doesn’t push or pull you. Maybe just a tiny bit, but it’s not that noticeable. Actually, having him holding on to you is kind of turning you on a little. Your pants are getting tighter, and you’re envious of his freedom.

Maybe you can finish this quickly. Then you can just relax and let him get you off. You try humming around him, because that’s another thing you’ve read about. He moans and his fingers tighten in your hair, and his hips twitch up slightly into your mouth. “God, Cuz…”

You go a bit faster, sucking hard, rubbing at his prick with your tongue. You move your hand down between his legs and tug at his balls gently, shuffling your fingers under them, rubbing your thumb over them.

“Ahh, fuck, ahh…” His other hand is gripping your sheets tightly. You pull up and focus your attention on the head of his cock, moving your hand up as well to stroke the rest of it, now slick with your saliva. You press your tongue over and across his slit a few times, licking up more of his pre-cum, still unsure how you feel about the taste. It’s leaking out of him steadily now, though, and you think he’s close.

You go back to bobbing up and down over him, twisting slightly at the neck. Your mouth is getting a little sore, and the arm holding you up is tired.

“ _Fuck_ , Eridan!”

He’s not restraining himself so well now; he moves his hips a little and there’s more pressure on your head, and you almost gag twice but you just go faster, working your hand in time with your rhythm.

“ _Eri—_ ahh!” You wonder if he’ll warn you—oh, no, you guess not.

You swallow more out of surprise and not knowing what else to do than actually wanting to. It seems like there’s a lot more than there’s supposed to be. You wonder if it just seems that way because you’re trying to gulp it all down or if the ‘it’ your cousin is full of is semen.

When it stops, you pull off and find your glasses. You put them on and roll over next to him, even though your twin bed is not really wide enough to accommodate two bodies. You can’t stand your fucking pants anymore, though, so you hurriedly unzip and unbutton and pull yourself out and oh god that feels so much better.

“Cro, you have to do me now,” you say, though you can’t resist giving your own dick a few hard pulls. Your hand still has lube on it, after all.

“Just give me one sec, okay?” But he does turn on his side and give you more room for your shoulders, which you shift to fill. He kisses your shoulder, rests his hand on your arm while you jerk your damn self off, thanks for fucking nothing.

But it really is only a second. “Here, let me do that, chief.” His hand hovers over yours and you drop it and it’s replaced by his own. His hands are rougher than yours—he does work on his car and plays guitar, maybe that’s why—but you kind of like it. And it’s nice to not have to do it yourself, for a change.

He shifts, putting more weight into his other arm and changing his grip so his knuckles are towards your stomach instead of away from it, and he’s thumbing over your head, wiping away your pre-cum. You moan. He kisses the corner of your mouth and you turn your head slightly and bite at his lips.

He takes it as encouragement, which is good because that’s what you meant it to be. You hungrily fish for his tongue and he gives it to you, thrusting it into your mouth, and this time you like it. He pumps you steadily and you rock into his hand, shaking your bed, but at least it’s not bumping obviously against the wall.

“That’s a good boy, E,” he whispers against your lips.

Oh god, for a second he almost sounded like Sollux. You whine and buck into his hand. You wonder if you could get him to call you ‘ED’ without him making fun of you. But that would be kind of pathetic. Never mind, you don’t want to. You just want to get off now. His hand feels so good, he’s going at a good pace, and it keeps the pressure building steadily in you.

You reach a hand up and push your lube-sticky fingers into his hair—whatever, it’s got gel in it anyway; a little more won’t do any harm. You kiss him firmly, your breath hitching into little sounds every so often. It’s not much longer before you come, making a mess of your stomach, and you think Cronus’s shirt. You don’t care as long as nothing got on your bed.

When you’re finished, Cronus pulls his hand away and sits up, patting your leg. “Good job,” he says. It seems like kind of a stupid thing to say to you, but you ignore it and close your eyes for a minute. He moves over you, off the bed. You hear a few of your tissues _fwshing_ out of the box, and then hear the jangling of his belt as he gets back into his pants.

You feel a little bit like you just had a one night stand and he’s ditching you. At least you actually got off, and you don’t really care if he leaves. If he unlocks your door while you’re lying on your bed with your dick out and jizz all over your stomach, though, you’re going to be a little pissed.

So you don’t give him the chance. You sigh, open your eyes, lean over to get some tissues yourself and clean up a bit before wiggling back into your pants.

Cronus is sitting at your desk chair now, watching you do stuff. “You’re pretty cute, Cuz.”

You glance up at him for a second before stooping to pick up your shirt. “Don’t make this weird. We _are_ related, _Cuz_.”

“I’m not making it weird. I didn’t say I was in love with you. Just, you know, if you want to do this again, let me know.”

“Whatever,” you say, although you’re kind of glad for the offer. You had a feeling this might kind of suck, but he’s actually not shitty. Not that you have anything to compare it to. Maybe he is. You probably are, but that would be a reason to practice.

He stands up, perhaps sensing that you’re done dealing with him for the day. “Well, let me know how your boy troubles work out. And have fun running your little blog.” You glance at your computer. He was snooping through your tabs while you were attending to your mess.

“ _Goodbye_ , Cro,” you insist. He picks up his socks and his boots and leaves your room.

You sit down in your chair and drum your fingers on the desk. Okay, so you got in a fight with the guy you’d actually like to be fucking today, and then you got off with your cousin instead. Is that a good thing? You don’t totally know. It’s probably kind of weird, but you think you’re okay with weird.

But maybe before you do anything else, you should wash the lube off your hands and brush your teeth.

**Author's Note:**

> May or may not write a sequel which may or may not include Cronus. Hint.  
> No promises.


End file.
